


Demons Far Too Loud

by WordsAndWishes



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, POV Morrigan (ACoTaR), PTSD, Pre-ACOTAR, Under the Mountain - Freeform, vague allusions to rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 16:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAndWishes/pseuds/WordsAndWishes
Summary: The night before Feyre Cursebreaker's wedding, Rhys has fallen into a particularly morose mood. Troubled by it, Mor winnows across Prythian in hopes of finding answers.-“My happiness will not come at the cost of hers. You’ve heard the rumors by now. You know they’re calling me Amarantha’s whore. I am a demon, a nightmare, there is enough blood on my hands to flow through the rivers of Night –”I cut him off. “We all have blood on our hands, Rhys. We’re all covered in it because we have fought tooth and nail to protect this Court. Stop playing the martyr, for Caulrdon’s sake!”





	Demons Far Too Loud

For three months, I had done everything I could to bring my cousin back to life.

From the moment he had winnowed into the townhouse with frantic eyes, whispering “She’s my mate,” I had known he wouldn’t be the same. But I had tried my damn hardest to bring the joy back in his eyes, to shake a genuine laugh from his chest. I had stayed up late with him, hoping my presence helped even if I was barely able to drag a truth from him.

He had done a perfectly good job to pretending he was fine, but the Inner Circle knew better. He had never once spent the day in bed or lashed out at us with talons or claws, but the light behind his eyes was guttering.

If this is how he is back in Velaris – what was he like Under the Mountain? I had thought. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer. 

Fifty years trapped with no wings, weapons or magic.

I found reasons to stay overnight at the townhouse, though nightmares never seemed to haunt him. I happened to ask the cooks to make Rhysand’s favourite meals, even the ones I hated. I even cracked more jokes than Cassian. But it wasn’t enough, because he was missing who he needed the most.

Feyre Cauldron-Blessed was to be married tomorrow, Azriel had told me earlier today. 

_Why couldn't Rhys call in the bargain at least once?_ I wanted to meet this woman. She had captured Rhys’s heart and defied the odds inside that hell.

But he had little claim to her, and the rest of us none at all, I supposed. So I minded my own business, curled on the lavender settee in the townhouse, sipping a cup of tea. 

Rhys came in the front door, boots heavy against the wooden floors. I twisted around to look at him. “Your old age must be catching up with you, cousin, if you’re retiring so soon.” I chirped.

He turned to me – and for once, the devastation on his face wasn’t completely hidden behind a clever mask. I could see the despair coming through the cracks of the façade. 

“It’s been a long day.” He replied, continuing through the room without pausing.

I shook my head. “Oh no. I’ve hardly seen you all week, you’ve been so busy dealing with the war bands. We’re going to sit down and have an actual conversation for once.”

Rhys sighed, but turned around and sat across from me in his favourite armchair. “What do you want to talk about?”

I bit my lip. I had been planning on having a long argument with him about simply sitting down, and hadn’t gotten as far as what I was going to actually ask him. 

“Tell me about Feyre.” 

His eyebrows shot up, but I couldn’t sense any distress or fear caused by my question.

“You’d like her. Under…there, she fought hard. It wasn’t even her fight, not really. In the months leading up to it, Tamlin and had both given her chances, hell, reasons to leave and never look back. She didn’t need to go to the Mountain to fight for him. If she ever came to our Court…I think she’d like Velaris.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing as he changed tracks.

I didn't voice what we were both thinking - _You have the power to bring her here._

“She’s smart – she didn’t always plan ahead, but she had a way of getting herself out of situations in the spur of the moment.” He fell silent, and I couldn’t gauge what he was thinking about.

“And now?” I prompted, noticing how he had used past tense.

“Now…she needs someone to listen to her, someone to talk to. She’s to be married tomorrow, Mor – but she’s falling apart. She doesn’t know how to shield, and so I’m constantly seeing through her eyes. I’ve been getting waves of anxiety from her all day, and they’re more then wedding nerves. Tamlin treats her as if her well-being was no more important than a court prisoner's.”

Rhys took a breath, and paused for so long I thought he wouldn’t continue. But he plowed on. “She could fight…but now, I don’t know if she wants to anymore.” He stopped abruptly, realizing that my magic had been encouraging his to say more than he would otherwise.

“She’s to be married tomorrow.” He repeated, the words flat. 

“So go get her.” I replied, leaning forward.

“I can’t. After what she went through – she deserves to be happy.”

“She doesn’t sound happy in the slightest, from what you've said." _And Azriel's reports._  
"And what about what _you_ want, Rhysand? What about _your_ happiness?” I pressed, and something snapped in his eyes, though his tone remained the same.

“My happiness will not come at the cost of hers. You’ve heard the rumors by now. You know they’re calling me Amarantha’s whore. I am a demon, a nightmare, there is enough blood on my hands to flow through the rivers of Night –”

I cut him off. “We all have blood on our hands, Rhys. We’re all covered in it because we have fought tooth and nail to protect this Court. Stop playing the martyr, for Cauldron’s sake!”

He only sighed. “Have you heard from Viviane lately, Mor?” I frowned, and Rhys wordlessly stood up, continuing up the stairs.

I didn’t try to stop him this time. My truth magic had worked almost too well, and he had told me things I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. 

_Ignorance is not bliss, Morrigan. You of all people should know that._

With a sigh, I stood up, my tea cold. _Should I stay in the townhouse tonight? Or my own flat?_

I considered it for a minute, but…Rhys needed space tonight. And he would likely see it as pity. So I burst the faelight I had been sitting by and left the townhouse, closing the door behind me.

My flat was only a few blocks away, and the walk only took a few minutes. I took off my earrings and bracelet, washed my face and put on lotion. But by the time I had nightclothes on, I was still wide awake as could be. 

Sleep didn’t come easily, and lying in bed, Rhys’s words played over in my head. 

_A demon, a nightmare…._

_She deserves to be happy._

_Have you heard from Viviane lately?_  
  
Such anguish in those words. That last comment had been particularly odd. I hadn’t heard anything from the Winter Court recently, now that he mentioned it.

Today had been a bad day for him. Rhys’s low opinion of himself was nothing new, but these last years had, understandably, made it so much worse. Because of what had been done to him, of how his reputation weighed.

I didn’t let it bother me anymore – what the rest of Prythian thought of us. I had been around long enough that I knew it would take a miracle to change people’s minds even if we wanted to.

On an impulse, I flung back the covers and leapt out of bed. Grappling for my day clothes, I dressed and fumbled for shoes. Then, before I could think it through, I winnowed Under the Mountain.

I winnowed myself to the base of the mountain, a few feet short of the main entrance. It was uncarved and plain, giving no sign of the horrors it had once contained within. Unlike most of the side entrances, it hadn’t caved in.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside the mountain. As the tunnel took me farther underground, I could see the influences from the Court of Nightmares in the ornate carvings on the wall. 

Had they been done by lackeys of Amarantha herself? Or the skilled craftsmen of the Dawn Court?

My footsteps echoed against the long hallways, and the faelight above my head was the only source of light. But, try as I might, I couldn’t see it as anything but an ordinary mountain. It was a place I had met a few times throughout the centuries, and one that I had lost my cousin to for fifty years. But….as terrible as it made me feel, the mere sight of it didn’t fill me with dread or fury.

Finally, I reached the center of the mountain. My nose still caught faint whiffs of the scents of various Courts as I walked the halls. Pine and peppermint from Winter, sand and parchment from Day.

_What am I looking for, anyway?_

_For something…from Rhys. To understand what he went through._

Inhaling deeply, I followed his scent - faint, but there among the others. Most of the chambers on this level were bedrooms, and though many of them had been used, no trace of those occupants had been left. As if they hadn’t wanted to give the Mountain anything to remember them by.

Eventually, I wound up halfway down a particularly ornate corridor, in front of a room with wide double doors. Traces of my cousin’s scent seemed to be stronger here.

A flicker of a horrible thought came to life in the back of my head.

Surely not…. 

Bracing myself, I steadied the faelight above my head and flung open chamber’s doors.

It was an absolute mess.

Unlike all the other spotless rooms, this one had been utterly destroyed. The chandelier had crashed to the floor, and broken glass still covered it. In the corner, the doors of the armoire were flung open - one was broken off – and the gowns inside were half burned. 

The carvings on the walls were broken or gone, as if someone had tried to blast them away with magic. And to top it all off, the grey bedsheets were shredded, the frame of the bed half broken. It was as if the ransackers had wanted to leave something here: this destroyed, angry monument to the wrongs that were committed.

I didn’t need any truth magic to tell me that this had been Amarantha’s room. 

The scent of her….was still there, barely. I had only met her once, but it had been enough to sear it into my memory. And with it….Rhys’s scent as well.

Cauldron damn us all.

Because this room was the one that haunted Rhys’s eyes, the one that had taken his joy and left him bleeding. Bile rose in my throat, and as I turned away I stretched out a hand, sending a mighty bolt of power to the bed.

As the Nightfire’s flames consumed it wholly, I left the room quicker than I had come. The fire would burn itself out within minutes, but not until it destroyed everything in that room. 

I wandered the halls again, eventually making my way to the throne room where Amarantha had obviously held court. The red marble floor had been cracked – what had done that? But other than that, everything had been removed, either by labor or magic. 

Still I walked, not sure what I was searching for. There was nothing here, and the only memories the Mountain now held were ones of fear and dread.

_Where are you? You said you weren’t leaving for Makrin until this afternoon, and Amren’s been looking for you all morning. I would get back here if I were you._

Rhys’s voice was a loud echo in my head, the sound strained over the distance. 

I had wandered all night. 

It was as if I had woken from some sort of a trance, and I could feel my legs start to ache. 

Damn it all. 

I had promised myself I would be back at the townhouse this morning to have breakfast with Rhys, and he was right – I had told Amren I would meet her after that. 

Not bothering to look around the Mountain one last time, I inhaled the damp air and winnowed away. Back to Velaris to chase away the demons were far too loud in all our heads.


End file.
